text:
by: Richard
This is a story that involves sex between males. If such a story is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue, go and surf elsewhere.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. If there is any similarity to any real persons or events it is entirely coincidental.
The work is copy righted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
First of all I would like to thank all of you who wrote
to me regarding my first story -- Rusty. I greatly appreciate all the kind words and suggestions.
I especially appreciate those who discovered errors in it and were so patient while I corrected them.
Here is the first chapter of this historical story.
All hell broke loose the day that his Mama died. Byron couldn't figure out why. All he
knew was she was gone. He was upset, but he didn't understand why the White folks were.
Folks, both Black & White were rushing about all afternoon long. When you're ten years old,
live on a plantation in North Carolina, and the year is 1826, and are the son of slave woman,
you've seen dying before. Not that Byron knew anything about the state he lived in or what
year it was, but what he did know was that White folks didn't fuss much over one slave,
especially a female slave, unless there was a reason. Some Black men came to the cabin where he and his Mama lived alone, and to take her
body away. They were kind to him, and kept telling him, "Everything's goin' t' be all right." Any ten year old slave boy knows that when your Mama has just died, and you don't have a
daddy, everything's definitely not going to be all right! But he didn't know anything to say, so he
didn't speak. He just stood in the doorway looking after them, tears streaming down his cheeks, as
they carried her away. Bertha, his Mamma's best friend, had come to be there with him. She patted
him on the shoulder, and tried to keep from crying, as she watched her friend's frail, lifeless body
being carried away. The next thing he knew Bertha was sorting through his Mama's and his clothes, and setting
some things aside. "Byron," she said, as she looked through the meager pile of clothes. "You run down t' the
creek and take you a bath." And then because she had boys of her own, she added, "And you
use soap too, ya hear?" He heard that! He didn't mind taking a bath, but that terrible smelling soap was almost more
than a body could bear. "I'll be back this evenin' t' git ya at supper time." Bertha sighed softly as she picked up the
items she had selected. Then putting her hand on her belly as the baby within in her moved, she
smiled at Byron. "Won't be long now," she said, and went back to her own cabin. It was hot that afternoon, A bath mightn't be so bad, he thought, and he picked
up the piece of brownish colored soap. It felt rough and dry in his hand. He figured that if he
was going to take a bath he'd better take some clean pants along otherwise there'd be no reason to
take a bath. It felt strange not having someone there to tell him that, usually his Mama stood in the
doorway watching to make sure he did. He hurried across the dirt yard in front of the row of cabins that stood in a line backed up to
the grove of Sycamore and Jack Pine. Standing, open-doored and grayish-brown from lack of
paint. The rough one room cabins served as kitchen, living space, and sleeping area for the
families of slaves which worked the rich brown earth of the Harper family plantation. It was
called Harper's Valley, a name given to the land by the original settler Arthur Burtron Harper,
the current owner's grandfather in 1750 when he settled there. They were no better, no worse
than those of the other plantations which sprawled across the Carolinas and Georgia in the early
nineteenth century. They were hot in summer, cold in winter, and wet when it rained. Standing across the yard in stark contrast were the barns which housed the horses and mules,
newly painted white with black trim. The tobacco drying barns could be seen in the distance
behind the barns at the edge of rows of green-yellow tobacco plants which stretched as far as the
eye could see. Across the long wooden fence that marked the division between tobacco and
cotton fields, the field hands worked in the hot summer sun pulling weeds. If you listened hard
you could just hear their voices singing a mournful work song as they bent to their labor. Byron hurried down the path that led to the stream that trailed across the Harper land like a
lazy garden snake, crossing and re-crossing it several times before disappearing into the horizon.
He spotted a group of little kids playing in the shallow water while their slightly older sisters
scrubbed clothes on the bank under the stern eye of a white haired woman too frail to work in
the fields. He stopped short in his tracks. If Bertha thought he was going to take a bath with all
them girls and kids watching, She's plumb crazy! he said to himself. But still she told him he had to take a bath, so he guessed he'd have to take a bath. But
just not there! He knew the land around Harper's Valley as well as anybody, so he turned
around and walked back to the cabin, and then through the trees that sheltered them. He knew
that if he walked through the trees and the brush that lay behind the cabins, and followed the
road a ways, he'd run into the stream again. This was where the older boys swam. But they
wouldn't be there now as they were working in the fields with their mamas and daddies this time
of day. When he got there it was quiet, and the water cool and inviting. If it hadn't been for that
darned soap he'd have enjoyed the prospect of taking a bath. "Well," he said out loud, "Might as well git it over with." Bertha said take a bath with it, so
he'd do it. It didn't take in anytime at all to get undressed, all he had on was the pants, and they just
slipped off when he pushed the straps off his shoulders. He looked at them when he stepped
out of them. They was dirty too, so he guessed he might as well scrub them too, as long as he
had the soap --- there was no telling who was going to do them now if he didn't. He sat down in the soft grass that grew along the bank and dunked the pants in the water.
Then after dipping the piece of soap in the water he pulled the pants back out of the water and
set them on the grass beside him, and began rubbing the soap on them. The smell was awful,
so he hurried, first one side and then the other. A quick dunk back in the water to rinse it out,
and did he it again. He'd often watched his Mama do it when he was younger, so he knew how
it was done. When he finished rubbing them the second time, he put the soap down and rubbed the fabric
against itself working the soap into a foam. Then he rinsed and squeezed, and rinsed again until
the soap was all gone. After he squeezed all the water he could out of the pants he laid them to
dry on the grass. Now it was his turn. His hands already smelled of the soap. He climbed down into the water.
It felt good on his body. He took the piece of soap and began working it between his hands until
it was all foamy. Then he rubbed it on his arms and chest. He made some more suds and did his
legs, balancing first on one foot and then the other. Then he did the other parts of his body, all
that he could reach. When he was all covered with the foul smelling soap he sat down in the water to rinse it off.
Now was the part he hated the most, his face and hair. He wet his face and hair the only way he
knew how, he lay back in the water and dunked himself, just like his Mama did. He sat up
quickly, suddenly remembering that no one was there to pull him up. Even though he was ten,
when she wanted to make sure he was clean, she went with him to give him a bath. He put the piece of soap on his hair and began rubbing it all about, and then made suds with
it in his hands and threw the piece on the grass beside his pants. Now had rubbed his hair and
face quickly for he was about to die from the smell. When he was all foamy he lay back in the
water and rubbed his hair and face with his hands. He came up sputtering and coughing because
water had gotten into his nose. He had to do it again because he could still feel the suds running
down his back out of his hair. Before lying back again he worked the soap in his hair into more
suds. This time he leaned forward, since he'd gotten most of it out of the back of his hair.
Leaning forward worked much better, he thought until he sat up and the soap got into
his eyes bringing instant pain and tears to them. He stood up and ran out to where the water was deeper and then dived in. The clean cool
water soothed his burning eyes, and as he held his breath he rubbed his hair some more, his body
settling slowly to the sandy bottom. This time when he stood up, there were no more suds, no
more soap to run into his eyes. He was clean. Now Bertha never told him to swim, just take a bath, but he figured he was just rinsing off
good! But after a little while he got tired of paddling about by himself. It wasn't much fun
swimming alone. So he went to the shore and climbed out. He wiped as much water off his body
as he could and then lay down in the sun to dry off before putting on his clean pants. His body still tingled from the soap, but at least he didn't smell quite so much like the soap,
and he was clean. He even remembered to clean his bottom good, and under the skin of his
pee-pee, as his Mama called it. He never could figure out why she called it that,
when everybody knew it was called a dick or cock. Oh well, mamas is strange, he
thought, and his was no exception. Except, he suddenly remembered, she was gone! He'd seen them carry her away. Suddenly
he began to cry uncontrollably. What would become of him now? His lean body shook with the
sobs which he was powerless to stop. He didn't know how long he cried, but finally the sobbing
stopped and it was just tears rolling down his face. With the palms of his hands he wiped his
eyes, and lay quietly with his face to the sky. A slight breeze dried his tears now, as it had done
for the rest of his body. He rolled over to let the breeze and sun dry his back and legs. He leaned up on his elbows and was surprised to see a horse and rider disappearing around
the bend in the stream. Someone had seen him! He knew it! They didn't like boys his age not working in the fields.
Bertha told him he should stay with his Mama today, but that wouldn't make any difference to
them. Now he'd be in trouble for sure, he was sure it had been one of the White folks. Byron jumped
up and pulled on his clean pants. Then he grabbed the still wet ones he'd washed, the remains
of the piece of soap, and ran. He didn't stop running until he was at the back of his cabin. He slowed, and then waited
until his breathing slowed to near normal, then walked slowly and deliberately around to the
front. He looked around and didn't see anybody, so he went inside. There wasn't anybody
inside either. Maybe, just maybe, they hadn't seen him. Byron hung the wet pants on the short piece of rope by his bed, and put the piece of soap
back where he'd gotten it from the table. He walked to the door and looked outside. The sun
was still a long way from setting. But he had nothing to do but wait. Not wanting to be seen
doing nothing, he went back inside. There he sat on his bed trying not to think about what had
happened this day. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but he suddenly realized that it was
beginning to get dark. He went and stood in the doorway once again. The people were beginning to come back from the fields, the men and women, big boys
and big girls, most walking and carrying tools, some riding mules. Some of the women carried
little ones in their arms. The field work day was over, now the chores around the cabins had
to be done, the meals cooked, the gardens tended, the horses and mules fed, the cows milked,
the chickens tended, and the cabins cleaned, if there was time. Those old enough to work the
fields did, and those who weren't stayed around the cabins with a few of the girls and women
too feeble to work, who looked after them. A few women, like Bertha, stayed about the
buildings too, because they were very close to having the baby they were carrying. Many
plantation owners made them work until their time came, often having the baby arrive right
out in the fields. But on the Harper place this wasn't the case. The old Master Harper had taken
great pride in his slaves, and wanted them to be strong and healthy. The younger Master had
not changed the practice, at least not yet. Byron watched as they went to their own cabins, some pausing to wave to him as they
went by. Several women came over to him and hugged him, and said some words he couldn't
understand, most were crying. They hugged him a moment and then hurried off. He guessed
that they was cryin' 'cause they knew his Mama had died. He went back and sat on his bed. For a long time he just sat there staring across the room
at the empty bed with the covers still turned back. That was where his Mama had been earlier in the day, as she lay breathing slow and easy.
In a sudden fit of coughing she had put her hands to her face until the coughing stopped. He
had watched all morning as she alternated between the sleep-like breathing and the coughing.
Twice he had gone over to her and asked if he could get her anything, a drink of water maybe,
or something to eat. Each time she just shook her head and smiled weakly at him. She was a pretty woman, he'd always thought she was, even now when she was sick, she
was pretty. Her light bronze colored skin was even paler now, no color in her cheeks, her hair
was a bit mussed, but she was still pretty. Finally after she coughed once again, she had called to him, and he had run over and
touched her hand. She grabbed his hand between her own and looked up at him with tear
filled eyes. "Byron," she had said softly, so soft he could barely hear, "You be a good boy. Do what
the White Master says, 'n you'll be okay. But always, be good, promise me." "Yes, Mama," he had answered dryly, "I will." She had patted his hand softly and smiled. "Now you run over 'ta Bertha's and ast her to
come over." "Yes, Mama," he had said again. She let go his hand and closed her eyes. She looked so
pretty. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was cooler now. A faint smile came across
her face. He turned and ran as fast as he could to Bertha's cabin down the way. When they had come back, she was lying still in her bed, as when he'd left her. The smile
had faded slightly, but he could still see it. Bertha had broken into tears and began wailing. She had knelt down on the floor and lay
across his mother's body was hugging on her. Byron had stood back just watching. Finally
Bertha had stood up, dried her eyes with her apron and turned to him. "Yore Mama's gone now, Byron," She had said. "She was a good woman, you 'member
that, a mighty good woman." She leaned over and put her arms around him and hugged him. "Now you got outside and sit awhile, I's got things t' do." Byron had done what she told him. But now it was getting dark, and he just sat starring across the room. He could barely see
the bed now, but he could still hear her faint voice, "Promise me." "Byron!" A voice called, "Byron!" It was Bertha. "Yes'im!" he answered, twice, the first time even he didn't hear himself. "Child, what are you doin' sittin' in the dark?" Bertha came in carrying a lamp. Byron got up and walked toward her. "Just sittin'." He answered. "Child, come on now, it's supper time. We's 'bout to eat." Byron hadn't thought about it, but he was hungry. He hadn't eaten since morning, and
then only bits and pieces left over from the food Bertha'd brought over the night before. "Yes'im," he answered. She turned around and he followed her back to her cabin. It was
much the same as the one he and his Mama shared, a single room with little furniture, a
fireplace to cook in. An oil lamp flickered on the table casting shadows on the wall. The
table was set for dinner, and the two boys and little girl were sitting at the back of the table
on the bench against the wall, and her husband, Jake Jackson was sitting on the bench in
front. A another plate was set at the end of the table. "Come on Byron, you sit there," she pointed. Byron walked over to the table. "'Evnin', Mister Jake," he said politely. "Good evening, Byron," Jake answered, "Sorry about yore Mama." Jake was a rangy
man, with skin a dark as midnight. Most times he was quiet, but he knew his business. His
business was seeing to it that the tobacco and cotton were grown properly and that those
working in the fields knew how to take care of the plants. "Thank you, Sir," he answered. The children said nothing, they were all much younger
than he was, but they were sitting mighty still for young'ns, he thought. Byron sat down as directed, and Bertha seated herself next to Jake. Jake folded his hands
and bowed his head, and everyone followed his lead, even the youngest. "Bless us, O Lord," he began, "And these Thy gifts...." concluding with, "And remember
our dear Sister Mary Jane, who's now with you, and her young'n here with us tonight. Amen"
The family echoed, "Amen." Byron's small voice was lost in the chorus. The meal was hastily eaten by the hungry
mouths gathered around the table. Byron ate sparingly, eating only what Bertha put on his
plate, and declining when she offered seconds. With so many to feed, and so little to feed
them, they didn't need another mouth to eat what should be theirs. After they had finished Byron stood up. "Thank you, Mister Jake, and Miss Bertha. I
surely do 'preciate you havin' me t' dinner like this." "Yore most welcome, Byron," Bertha said. "If'n you all 'll 'scuse me, I'll be goin'." "'Night," They both answered, and watched silently as Byron walked from their cabin.
Bertha covered her face and began weeping softly, Jake comforting her the best that he could,
holding her gently in his strong arms. Byron walked slowly back to the dark cabin at the end of the row. He stood outside for a
long time before going inside. He tried not to think about the empty bed which lay across the
room from his own. He climbed in and lay back resting his head on his arms which he folded
behind it for a pillow. Outside a few voices could be heard talking in low tones, words he
couldn't quite hear. Later only the night sounds filtered through the trees until he finally drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, before the sun had risen fully, Bertha came into the cabin. She was carrying some clothes all clean and pressed.
"You git dressed now, Byron," she said putting them on the bed beside him.
He was still half asleep and stood rubbing his eyes.
"First, though," she said, "You run down t' the stream and wash the sleep off yur face. And mind you don't git yur hair all wet. I'll come back fur ya when we're ready."
He didn't know for what. But when Bertha said git, you did what she said. He ran off and washed his face in the cool water at the usual place closest to the yard. When he came back she was gone, so he took off his pants and put on the clothes she'd brought for him to wear. They were his own Sunday best, all freshly washed and ironed. They smelled of the soap like he washed with yesterday, so he knew she'd just washed them.
He buttoned the shirt and tucked it inside the pants neatly before pulling up the straps on his pants. He felt funny wearing these clothes when it wasn't even Sunday. He'd just finished adjusting the straps when Bertha came in.
"My! You does look fine," she smiled. "Come along now." He followed her. They walked down to her cabin and stood in front. The neighbors stood in front of their doors, all dressed in their Sunday clothes. They were all looking down the yard toward the white barn where the wagons and horses were kept. The large door at the front had been closed when they first got there, but now it rolled open.
A team of mules pulling a small wagon slowly walked out. A man sat in front driving them slowly. He wore a black hat, the kind the White folks wore on special occasions, and he wore a black coat which didn't fit him too well.
Slowly the team pulled the wagon and made a wide turn across the yard and started down the path in front of the row of cabins. The people began to follow behind it. It was when the wagon got nearly in front of where he stood that Byron could see the long narrow wooden box which lay in the back of the wagon.
As the wagon got to where he stood, it stopped. Bertha took his arm.
"We'll follow on here," she said. Jake scooped up the little girl in his arms, and with the boys following behind him, followed Byron and Bertha to the wagon. The driver snapped the reins on the backs of the mules, and they began to move once again.
As the procession started to move on, the voices of the people could now be heard in mournful song. "Swing low, Sweet Chariots...." They sang softly and slowly at first. The procession made its way down the path toward the Big House, as it was called, where Master Harper lived.
It was a grand house, all white with columns and porches all around. A fine green lawn covered with patches of red flowers was in front, with a white stone path leading up from the drive.
As they passed by, Byron looked out of the corner of his eye, as he knew that he shouldn't look away, he saw folks standing on the veranda. He couldn't exactly see who all was there, but it was most of them he was sure.
The wagon continued down the drive and made its way to the small plot of ground out of sight of all the buildings, and resting on a slight hill just up from the stream. A rough wooden fence surrounded the cemetery where the slaves were buried. There was a similar plot, just back a ways on the path on a higher piece of ground, where the White folks were buried, but with a fine white fence, and some trees surrounding it.
When the wagon stopped just passed the break in the fence, Bertha led Byron and the rest of the procession inside the fence and over to where a freshly opened grave yawned, the tall grass had been beaten down as they had worked to dig in the dry earth. They gathered around and waited. Then five of the men who'd stayed behind carefully lifted the light wooden casket and eased it out of the wagon. One of the men, The Preacher-Man, his Mama had called him, lead the way back, and the other four carried the casket to where the people were waiting. As they carried it, the man with the tall black hat drove the wagon away. They set it down on the wooden poles which lay across the grave and stood behind it.
Then the Preacher-Man who led the procession from the wagon spoke.
"My friends," he began, "We have come to this hallowed place to lay to rest the earthly remains of our Dear Sister, Mary Jane, who has departed this world...." The man's voice droned on as he gave the people a sermon on living and dying, of good and evil, of reward and punishment, of heaven and hell and damnation. Byron had heard it all before, but it had never meant much to him before.
Now he understood a little of what it meant, at least the part about dying and mourning and tears and travail. In spite of himself, tears filled his eyes as he looked at the small box which he knew somehow had to contain his Mama's body, though it looked much too small with those four large men holding it so easily, it might as well have been empty.
When the Preacher-Man stopped, all the people, answered with a resounding, "Amen!" He reached down and picked up a handful of dirt from the ground, "Dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return." He laid the dirt on top of the box. He turned and came to where Byron stood.
"God, bless you, my child," he said.
The children and others who'd carried little bunches of wild flowers, now came by and placed them on top of the small wooden box.
Bertha then took his hand and led him to it, pausing a moment and putting her hand on it lightly. Byron reached out and touched the rough box too, though he wasn't sure if he should, or why. Then she continued on away, still holding onto Byron's hand. He followed easily, glad to be away from that place at last. He didn't look back.
"You wait here, Byron," Bertha said when they reached his cabin, "Leave on your good clothes. I'll be back for you as soon as I see to the children." She turned and hurried after her husband who'd gone on ahead.
Byron went inside and looked around. Someone had come and cleaned the cabin. His Mama's things were all gone, and his small amount of clothes were stacked neatly on the bed tied with a thin piece of string. The dishes and other things were all on the table, cleaned and polished. Otherwise, the place was empty. There was no sign that anyone lived there, save his clothes.
What was happening? Where was he going? Why were they doing this? He stood looking dumbfounded, he wanted to run, to cry, to do anything but stand and wait. He'd almost made up his mind to run, when he heard Berth's rustling skirt behind him.
"Come with me, Byron," She spoke firmly, but gently. She picked up the small bundle of clothes from his bed and led him from the cabin. She looked straight ahead, not saying a word, as she took him up the path to the Big House. When he realized where he was going, his heart began to pound. He desperately want to run now. But Bertha's firm grasp on his hand prevented it. She apparently sensed his terror, and she spoke softly, "It's going to be okay, Byron, it's going to be okay."
When they reach the white stone path leading up to the house, she stopped. She handed the small bundle to him and leaned over a little and spoke to him.
"They're waiting for you. Just walk up to the house. They're waiting, now." She leaned a little closer and kissed him softly on the forehead. "Go!" she said firmly. And he went.
He never looked back. Slowly but deliberately he walked up the white path, the flat stones felt cool on his bare feet. He didn't see anyone, but he continued anyway. When he reached the bottom step, the front door opened. He was so startled, that he almost bolted and ran away. But he recognized the man at the door, it was Charles.
Charles was a friend, well, at least he had been a friend of his Mama's. His job, she had told him, was to answer the door when company came to call, and to take their coats and hats, and show them where they should go. He had other jobs too, but his Mama never told him what they were.
Charles came out of the door, and waited while Byron finished the climb up the steps to the veranda. He wasn't a really tall man, but from where Byron was, he looked tall. His dark skin shown and his eyes fairly sparkled in the brilliant sun.
He dark coat and pants were neatly pressed, and a white shirt peeked out from under the coat at the ends of his sleeves and at the collar, his fine black shoes were shinning as he stood waiting.
"I'll take these," Charles said, taking the small bundle from Byron's trembling hands. "Follow me," he said as he turned and walked into the house.
Finally he was going to see inside the Big House. In all his life, he'd never been inside before, never even seen the door open. He'd heard stories from some of the women who worked inside, but nothing they said prepared him for what he saw.
It was marvelous! Too much to see all at once! The floors had coverings on them of something soft like a blanket, he guessed, brightly colored with reds, blues, and gold. On the walls hung all sorts of things, pictures of people, and all kinds scenes from out-of-doors. Candles held by gold holders were everywhere.
Charles led him to a great doorway. Charles knocked firmly twice. A voice from within spoke. "Come in."
Charles opened the door and motioned for Byron to follow him. Reluctantly Byron followed, his heart would surely burst if he continued doing what he was doing.
The room was lined with books on shelves, at least, he thought they were, according to what he'd heard, it must be the Library. Two whole walls were covered with them. Across the room from the door with a large set of windows behind it was a table, at which a man was sitting. A man he'd seen, but didn't know.
"Master Harper," Charles said, "This is Byron. Will there be anything else, Sir?"
"No, Charles, just wait outside," Master Harper' voice was gentle considering his size. He was nearly six feet tall, and weighed a hundred seventy pounds. His dark blue coat was shinny. His hair was curly and golden colored. It hung nearly to his shoulders. He was a young man, younger brother to the Master who had died some months ago from a riding accident, so Byron had heard.
"So you're Byron," the man said standing up and revealing just how tall he was. Byron tried to stand straighter and taller, so he wouldn't feel so small, but nothing helped.
"Don't be afraid," the man said gently, "My name is Jeffrey, Jeffrey Harper. You may not have heard of me before, since I've just recently retired from up North. You may have heard of my brother, Ralph, who was killed a few months back."
Byron knew he should say something, but his voice would not come, so he nodded his head.
"Anyway, I am the new Master. The reason that you've been brought to me it because of a promise that my brother made me give him a few years ago. I don't know what you've heard about my brother, or what you might have been told.
"It seems that my brother and your mother had an affair. And since my brother never married, you are his only child."
The words he understood, but their meaning was unclear. The last part, he did know what they meant! His father was a White Master! How could this be?
"Yes, Byron, as distasteful as most of my family finds it, you are my nephew. And seeing you now for the first time, it is apparent. And I am your Uncle Jeffrey." Jeffrey smiled as he looked down on the boy standing in front of him. A boy, although dressed in overalls and dark shirt, with no shoes, dressed as any slave boy might be dressed on a Sunday, this boy had reddish blonde hair which curled about his face. His skin was the color of rich cream, as though tanned from being in the sun, and his eyes a cool bluish gray.
The very thought of how much this curdled the very souls of his sisters and his aunts and uncles, amused him. Both his parents, James Arthur and Mary Ellen Harper, had died nine years ago, just after Byron had been born. They died not knowing that their elder son had given them a grandson, the son of a slave women. And when Ralph took over Harper's Valley, he'd sent for Jeffrey, who had been in school at the time, and to make him aware of Byron's existence and position. Not that he had any legal status or position, because his mother was a slave. But Ralph, as Jeffrey quickly learned, was deadly serious. He'd made Jeffrey promise that if anything happened to him, and to Mary Jane, Byron's mother, and if there were no heirs to the property, other than Jeffrey and his sisters, that Byron was to be brought up as his son, with the propriety and privileges of a Harper.
Jeffrey at the time, had laughed and thought it a great joke. He also knew that Ralph was planning on getting married to one of the local belles in the winter, but he liked the great fun of it all. They had, while drinking that very night, discussed all the implications and made great plans for his son.
Seeing Byron's confusion and wonderment over what he was saying, Jeffrey asked, "How about it, Byron, would you like to live in this house with me?"
"Yes, Sir, Mister Jeffrey." What else could he say, and he added, "I'd be mighty pleased to be your servant." That must be what he was talking about.
Jeffrey burst into the uproarious laughter. "I like you, Byron," he said slapping lightly him on the shoulder. Byron smiled broadly thinking he had pleased the Master with what he'd said.
"Come," Jeffrey said, "Let me introduce you to the staff." Then seeing the frown on Byron's face, "Oh, they're here to help you when you need something." Jeffrey pulled on a cord hanging at the doorway, then opened the great door to the library and led Byron out into the hallway.
By the time that Byron had a chance to catch his breath, the hallway was filled with people. Some of them, like Charles, he'd seen before. He didn't know many names, but the faces he remembered.
Jeffrey stood Byron next to him as he began to speak to the assembled servants.
"I think you all know Byron here, and you know that his mother was buried this morning," he paused.
Then he began again, "What some of you might not know is that Byron is my brother's child." There was a sort of a silent gasp from some of the servants.
"But what none of you know is that my brother made me promise to take care of Byron, and to see that he is well taken care of. Byron and I will be best friends. It will be your additional duty to see that he has what he needs. You will," he emphasized by repeating, "You will treat him with all the respect due any young Master of the house." He waited a moment for what he had said to sink in.
"You may all return to your duties now," he said, "Except you, Charles." Charles waited, standing rigidly, he dared not look down at Byron for fear of breaking into a smile. He, of course, had known of this before hand.
Jeffrey waited until all the others were out of hearing range before he said, "Charles, will you show Master Byron to his room, which I believe is now ready."
"Very good, Master Jeffrey." Charles then turned slightly and looked down at Byron, "If you will please follow me, Master Byron."
Jeffrey smiled down at Byron who looked up at him with a questioning look.
"Yes, Master Byron," Jeffrey said, "Go with Charles. He's okay."
"Yes, Sir," Byron answered. Charles took Byron through the hall, and up the grand stairway to his room. It was the room which Jeffrey himself had occupied barely two months ago before his brother's death. For Byron it was the grandest thing he'd ever seen.
Once they were inside and the door was closed, Charles began to laugh. He laughed until his sides hurt and tears were streaming down his face. Byron unable to see what he was laughing at or about just stood there, sober faced, and still frightened.
"I'm sorry Byron," Charles said at last regaining control. "I'm sure you don't see anything funny, and truly I am not laughing at you," then sobering a bit himself, "And I'm not at all sure this isn't some kind of joke, Master Jeffrey is playing. But for now, until things change, you will be treated like a White boy, nephew to the Master. Do you understand?"
"No, Sir," Byron said quite honestly.
"Neither do I," Charles admitted. "But let's just say that Master Jeffrey has asked you to play a game with him, and you must play the game, no matter what he asks."
"Why didn't he say that?" Byron asked, "I like games!"
"I guess, Master Jeffrey forgot that you might understand that, he forgot how boys like games." Charles showed everything in the room to Byron, and explained what it was for.
Meanwhile down in the library another meeting was taking place, with a very different cast of players: Jeffrey Harper, and his two older sisters, Miss Cynthia --- Mrs. James Harper Perkins, and Miss Margaret --- Mrs. Lincoln Harper Layton, both of whom had just gotten word from Jeffrey and rushed over from their respective homes with their husbands to hear from Jeffrey's own mouth what was going on.
They, of course, had known all about their brother's indiscretions, as they called them, his decided penchant for Black women. And they knew of Byron's existence, though neither had ever seen the boy. It was said the he did indeed look like Ralph, though his hair was a bit more curly, and his skin more golden in color. Byron's mother was also a mixture of the two races, also having had a White father, James Harper's half-brother Amos Barlow, a strikingly handsome rouge whose only purpose in life, it seemed, was fathering half Black bastards. Mary Jane had half-sisters and half-brothers all across the Carolinas and Georgia, fourteen in all, but could compare to her in beauty. In that way she took after her father. It was no wonder then that Ralph was taken with her. But it was Ralph's mother who resisted every attempt to have her mated with other Black men, and never allowed her to marry. Ralph's father often wondered why, although he knew of her parentage, had never considered it important.
"You don't seriously propose to bring that Black child to live in this house," Miss Cynthia said.
"I do indeed, dear Sister. In fact, he is already here." Jeffrey answered.
"But why, Jeffrey? You'll make us the laughing stock of Charlotte," Miss Margaret pleaded.
"Why?" Jeffrey began, "Because he is, in spite of his birthing and early upbringing, my nephew, and that you will see for yourself, beyond any doubt, very shortly."
"I don't think I can bare it, I think I shall die," Cynthia complained.
"Come, come, dear Cynthia," Jeffrey soothed, "It will work, you shall see." At first, even Jeffrey had thought it prosperous, when Ralph had mentioned it, and thought it might be amusing. But today when he saw young Byron, he knew that his brother was right, the child was his son. And as he grew older, no one would ever know that his mother was Black.
Jeffrey pulled the cord by the door summoning the maid. He ordered that cool drinks be brought to the veranda where they would sit and relax before dinner.
Upstairs Charles showed Byron a small portrait of his father, Ralph, painted when he was a boy of eleven. It stood on the dressing table. It was a small picture. Byron took it and went to the mirror which stood by the window. He looked at the picture, and then in the mirror.
"Is this me?" He asked looking up at Charles.
"No, Byron," Charles answered, "It's your father."
Byron looked at the picture again. Now some things he'd heard, and the way some people treated him were clear to him. The other boys he played with, had laughed and made fun of his hair and his skin. When he'd told his mother about it, she would just smile and told him not to worry about that. He always remembered she had said many times, "It's not the color of your skin, or the way your hair looks, that makes you a man, but how you behave."
"May I keep it?" Byron asked.
"Yes, it is yours. I think that you should leave it on the table by your bed, so you can see it whenever you want to," Charles suggested.
"Now, it's time for you to change. What would you like to wear for dinner tonight?" Charles asked.
Byron looked at the small bundle of clothes which lay on a chair by the door.
"Don't worry about those," Charles said, as he went to a doorway. "Your new clothes are in here." He pulled open the door to reveal a large closet hung with every kind of outfit that one could imagine, of every color and texture and style.
"These may not all fit you now, but they are yours."
Byron had never seen so many clothes. "Are you sure?" he asked as he walked over and touched them.
"I'm sure, but before you dress," Charles said, "You must have a bath."
"I took a bath just yesterday, and I washed real good," Byron protested.
"Byron," Charles smiled, "White folks bathe all the time, it's a wonder they have any skin at all. Come in here," he led Byron into the bathing room just beside the bedroom. In the room was a whole series of things which Byron had never seen.
Among them was a tub, filled with warm water, almost hot, Byron touched it to see. The room had a fragrance like flowers.
"You get undressed, Byron, and I'll help you." Charles said as he took off his jacket. Byron stood still. "Come on, Master Byron, you've got to have a bath."
Still Byron did not move. "Oh you're shy," Charles said, "I'll go in the other room while you undress then." Charles turned and walked into the bedroom. He watched in the mirror, which mothers always placed just where they were for a reason, so they could see into the bathroom to ensure that their sons were doing as they were supposed to do, and not doing those other things boys were known to do. The boys always knew what the mirrors were for, or soon learned, but Byron of course, did not.
With Charles gone from the room Byron quickly removed his shirt and trousers, which he placed carefully on a hook nearby, after all they were his best clothes. Then he went to the tub, and felt the water again. It was still very warm, but he climbed in anyway.
Once Charles saw him sit down in the water, he returned.
"Now, Byron," he said calmly, "Please don't splash about, and get me all wet. I don't want to have to change clothes just now." Just to be safe, Charles took a large towel and wrapped it about his waist. Then he proceeded to give Byron a bath, the way the White folks bathed.
As the strong fragrance of the soap hit his nostrils, Bryon began to sneeze, he put his hand to his face getting more soap even closer to his nose. Finally the sneezing stopped. Charles waited patiently and then continued washing Byron with the soft cloth.
"All right, Byron" Charles said, "Stand up and I'll finish washing the rest of you." Seeing that Byron was reluctant, he added, "Byron, I've already seen all of you, don't be so silly."
Byron, realizing that it was true, gave in and stood up. He was still embarrassed to have someone seeing his privates, to say nothing about having them touch him as well. Charles gentle hands carefully cleaned Byron as if it were nothing at all new to him; seeming to know exactly how to do it. He wondered about this, but said nothing.
Charles took the pitcher filled with warm water and poured it over Byron's body. When he finished, he took a soft towel and began drying Byron's hair and face first. Then he stood up and helped Byron out of the tub.
Byron stood dripping on the mat, and Charles took another courser towel and briskly rubbed him down the back and legs. Then he dried the rest of him. Charles smiled to himself when he finished, "The boy's got almost as much as his father had, and he's only ten. Well, he didn't get that from his father, that's for sure!" Once he had Byron dry, they went back to the bedroom.
"First," Charles said, "You've got to put on your underclothing." He walked to the dresser and pulled out the one piece cotton underwear from the drawer.
"What's that for?" Byron asked.
"That's a good question, Byron. It's called underwear.
All the rich White folk wear it under their other clothes. I guess it helps keep them clean."
"Do I have to?" Byron asked.
"Yes, Byron, you do." Charles held it out to Byron. He helped Byron with the small buttons.
"I think," Charles said, "That you should wear the light blue outfit for dinner tonight." Charles went to the closet and pulled out the soft polished cotton suit, and selected the lightest weight shirt he could find. He knew that Byron wasn't used to wearing all that many clothes, and would die of the heat, if he wore a heavier outfit. After the pants and shirt were on, he went back to the dresser for stockings.
"What are those?"
"For what?"
"For your feet, you can't wear shoes without them."
"I've got to wear shoes!" Byron protested.
"You'll look funny in that suit without shoes." Byron looked exasperated, but sat down in the nearby chair while Charles pulled on the stockings tucking them up under the tight bottoms of the legs on the suit pants. He took a pair of white soft leather shoes from the closet shoe rack and put them on Byron's feet, lacing them comfortably and securely.
"A question," Byron said, "Just how does one pee-pee in this outfit?"
Charles burst out laughing, and since he was just about to stand up from tying Byron's shoes, lost his balance and rolled onto the floor. When he recovered from his fit of laughter, he said to Byron, "Come into the bathroom, and I'll show you."
"Hmmm," Charles said to himself, and then to Byron, "I'll show you, if you promise not to tell anyone that I did. Promise?"
"Promise," Byron said. Byron watched as Charles reached inside his own trousers through the carefully concealed flaps in his pants and underwear and pulled out his penis. He then stood in front of the commode and urinated into it. He shook it several times when he finished and replaced it inside his pants.
"See?" Charles asked. He was embarrassed by his exhibition, but had felt it was necessary. "Now you try."
Byron fumbled with the front of his pants, and then with the underwear, and finally managed to get his penis out through the openings. He actually did have to go, and peed into the commode too.
"You'll have to learn how soon you have to leave a room before you really need to go, so you don't have an accident," Charles said. "It takes practice, but you'll learn. Now let's do something with your hair. It's a mess."
Byron felt it, it was still damp and tangled. They went back to the bedroom where Charles took a soft towel and rubbed his hair gently until is was nearly completely dry. Then he took his fingers and pushed them through the curls, shaking them out as he did so. Moments later he worked the curls into place. He stood back and adjusted some of them with his fingers.
"This you'll learn how to do too," he said. "Most folks have to use a hairbrush, but you won't. Use your fingers, it doesn't hurt the hair like a brush can."
Then Charles helped Byron on with the jacket and buttoned it.
"Now you looks like a gentleman," Charles said standing off a ways and surveying the results. "A fine country gentleman." Byron turned and looked into the mirror. Now he looked even more like the boy in the picture. But was it him?
"Are you sure?" Byron questioned, "I feel awful in these clothes, 'specially the shoes."
"Yes, you look fine, you'll get used to them." Charles answered. He smiled, "Your Mama would be proud. Mighty proud."
There was a knock at the door. Charles hurriedly opened it.
"Master Jeffrey says it's time for him to come down for dinner." It was Flora, she?d been busy when the other servants had been introduced to Byron.
"Flora," Charles said, "This is Master Byron." He stepped aside and revealed Byron who been hidden from her sight."
She put her hand to her mouth to muffle the sound of her scream. Flora was one of the older members of the household staff, and she remembered Ralph from when he was a boy, a few years older than Byron was now. She began to cry as she looked at Byron and recalled the past. He had been her favorite of all the children. She covered her face and ran down the hallway.
"Is she all right?" Byron asked.
"She'll be fine," Charles said softly, "Just fine."
Byron followed Charles down the stairs, holding onto the banister with one hand so that he wouldn't fall. The shoes made him unsteady on his feet. Charles showed Byron the way to the dining-room, and announced him to those already there.
The two women seated gasped when they saw him, covering their mouths with their napkins. The resemblance was undeniable, this boy was their nephew, and he was definitely not Black.
"Byron," Jeffrey stood up and motioned to him to come closer, "These are your aunts and uncles: Miss Cynthia and her husband, Mister Perkins, and Miss Margaret, and her husband, Mister Layton."
"I'm pleased to meet you," Byron answered softly, Charles had coached him on exactly what to say. He stood stiffly waiting.
"Do come and sit down, Byron. You can sit by me," Jeffrey said. Byron hurried over to the place next to Jeffrey. Charles hurried to help him with the chair. When Byron was seated, Charles took the napkin and laid it neatly unfolded into his lap. He leaned over and whispered into his ear. "Just watch how they do things, and try to do things the way they do. You'll be fine."
"Thank you, Charles," Jeffrey said. "Tell them we're ready for dinner."
"Very good, Sir." Charles bowed slightly and left the room. Byron was frightened. Everything was so new. All these dishes, and all the utensils. How could anyone manage with all of them to choose from? He would die!
With only minor mistakes, Byron managed by observing Jeffrey, to eat his way through dinner, speaking only when absolutely necessary. One thing, he found that he'd have to learn, was to take smaller bites, so it didn't take so long to chew them, that way he could answer a question more quickly. His Mama always told him not to talk with his mouth full.
His Mama. It had been just a few short hours since he'd seen her casket lying on the ground covered with flowers. His eyes suddenly filled with tears and he sat with his face looking down at his hands. He couldn't continue. He gasped silently for a breath. His hands went to his eyes and wiped the tears away.
He saw the looks he got from those present. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I'm sorry."
When the meal was finished and coffee was being served Charles returned and rescured Byron from the first formal dinner he was to experience. After saying Good night to the guests at Charles' prompting he was ushered up the long stairway to his room.
"You did good, Byron," Charles said smiling at the boy.
"It was so scary," Bryon whispered as he looked up at the big man who began undressing him. First came off the coat, followed by the tie and shirt. Byron let Charles do everything in the order he wanted. He was glad to be rid of the clothes that he had been required to wear for the evening. He sighed as Charles lifted him up to the bed to remove the shoes and the stockings. Charles rubbed his small feets and Bryon wiggled his toes grinning at the feeling. Charles grinned at the boy, and poked his big fingers on Byron's chest. Byron curled his body and rolled onto his back on the bed. Charles unbuttoned his pants and slipped them down the slim legs and off. He folded them carefully laying them along side of the nearly naked boy.
Byron watched as Charles took the pants and hung them on a hanger over which he placed the coat.
"See this is how you put your clothes away when you take them off." Charles then took them to the cabinet from where he'd gotten them earlier in the evening. "The tie goes here," he said as he hung it inside the door. "And the shirt and stockings go in the basket here." Charles lifted the cover of a wicker basket that sat inside the cabinet on the floor. Then he pulled a drawer open and took out some night clothes.
"What are those for?" Byron asked never having seen anything like them before.
"These," he answered, "are what you wear at night." He returned to the bed where Byron was watching. "You best go pee first." Charles held his hand out to Byron. The boy took his hand and slide off the bed.
"Do I wear these?" he tentatively touched his under garment pants.
"No, you can take those off too." He waited while Byron pushed them down and stepped out of them struggling to keep his balance. "They go in the basket too." Byron hurried over to the wicker basket and placed them inside. "That's good. Now run to the bathroom and pee."
Byron hesitated a moment waiting until Charles pointed to the door to the bathroom. He watched as the boy hurried to the door and opened it. The little brown butt disappeared inside.
He heard the sound of the boy peeing into the toilet, watching as the butt wiggled when Byron shook off the small last drops before turned around and came back to where Charles waited.
Charles helped Byron get into the night shirt. Then he lifted him up onto the bed. He turned down the spread and sheet and motioned Byron to slid under it. Then he tucked the sheet up around Byron's waist.
"You try to go to sleep right away," Charles said, "I'll check on you in a little while."
"Good night," Byron whispered, sounding frightened.
"You'll be okay." Charles leaned over and gave him a light kiss on his forehead. Then he blew out the candles and left the room closing the door silently behind him.
Byron close his eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep. He was exhausted.
Later that evening Byron woke with a start. His cheeks were wet with tears and he felt a warmth he was unaccutomed to. He sat up quickly and found that he was not alone.
"It's okay, Byron," it was Charles, "I'm right here." Byron felt Charles' arm holding him close. Byron lay back down and snuggled again Charles' warmth.
"Was I crying?" Byron asked softly.
"Yes, when I came to check on you, you were."
"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry I am being such a bother."
"Shhh," Charles said, "You're no bother 'tall. You're just a young'un."
Byron sighed and moved closer to Charles. As he moved he felt an unfamiliar hardness pressing against his bottom. With some trepidation he moved his hand to where the feeling was coming. As his fingers came to the object he was surprised to feel it move. He instinctively knew what it was.
"It's just me," Charles whispered.
"Oh," he sighed softly. Then had added, "It's sooo big."
"I'm a big man," Charles sighed as he felt Byron's fingers handle his throbbing cock.
"Will you show me someday when it is light?"
"Yes, perhaps," he said, then added, "But now we should go to sleep." He hoped that this would end the session that was beginning to be too much for his efforts to control his eruption. Byron removed his fingers and snuggled back against him.
To be continued ---
If you have any comments or suggestions, please send them to email@example.com.


text:
Junior Member
Posts: 1
Karma: 10
Join Date: Feb 2010
Device: kindle
Adobe Digital Editions 1.7.2
I currently own a Kindle 2, but am frustrated with lack of library support. I'm thinking of replacing it with the Nook.
I see there is an update of Adobe Digital Editions, and the announcement on the Adobe page says it supports Sony Reader, but does not mention Nook. Can anyone confirm that going forward, Nook and Adobe Digital Editions will play nicely and allow me to check out library books? That is my only reason for deciding to purchase a Nook . . . if it's not going to work, I won't buy one. I need to know before I purchase, since they charge a restocking fee Thanks! |
Posts: 392
Karma: 2200
Join Date: Mar 2009
Location: Germany
Device: iphone 4, iPad, Nook softrooted
It is no problem to use the Nook with ADE. I personaly prefer Calibre. You can send all your DRM epub books via Calibre on your Nook.
But you know, that you cannot send your Amazon books on the Nook. It cannot read that format. But if you "free" them, you can convert them to epub and send them on your Nook either. But I have to tell you one thing. At the moment there is no way, to organize your personal library on the Nook. Only the B&N stuff can be organized by auther, date or title. The software update is actualy expected today, at least, that's what the say at the B&N forum. Maybe after that, it will be possible to organize side loaded stuff too. |
Thread Tools | Search this Thread |
Similar Threads | ||||
Thread | Thread Starter | Forum | Replies | Last Post |
Downloading Adobe Ebook pdf files crashes Adobe Digital Editions .... | Zevs | Sony Reader | 2 | 09-17-2010 12:25 PM |
New verions of Adobe Digital Editions - Digital Editions 1.7.2 | kennyc | ePub | 0 | 02-12-2010 06:21 AM |
Adobe Digital Editions | MelC | Sony Reader | 3 | 01-14-2010 06:42 AM |
Adobe has new hope for e-books with Adobe Digital Editions | Alexander Turcic | News | 82 | 01-05-2010 07:14 PM |
Adobe Digital Editions and DX? | Diligently Me | Amazon Kindle | 1 | 09-25-2009 04:32 PM |

subset: commoncrawl


text:
- Home
- Multimedia
2015 Asia Foundation Development Fellows in Nepal and Singapore On March 5-15, The Asia Foundation hosted the 2015 class of the Asia Foundation Development Fellows: Emerging Leadership for Asia's Future program in Singapore and Nepal. The 12 Fellows – a dynamic and inspirational...Slideshow
Critical Issues: Ethnic and Religious Conflicts Subnational conflicts are the most deadly, widespread, and enduring violent conflicts in Asia. Recent studies by The Asia Foundation indicate that more people have died in the region's 26 subnational conflicts than in...Slideshow
Asia Foundation Development Fellows in Philippines and Singapore On April 3-13, The Asia Foundation hosted the inaugural class of The Asia Foundation Development Fellows: Emerging Leadership for Asia's Future program in Singapore and the Philippines. The 10 fellows – an accomplished...Slideshow
Barangay Elections in the Philippines Test Security Five months after the May, 2013 mid-term national and local elections in the Philippines, nearly 54 million citizens headed to the polls on October 28 to elect their new barangay chairpersons and councilors. In the...Slideshow
Relief Efforts in Zamboanga City Two weeks after violent fighting between soldiers and Muslim rebels in southern Philippines broke out, an estimated 100,000 local residents have been displaced, and are now in evacuation centers in Zamboanga City, with the UN...Slideshow
Picturing: Turn Down the Heat The World Bank's second "Turn Down the Heat" report warns of dramatic changes that will occur in the world's poorest countries if the Earth's temperature rises 2-4°C above pre-industrial ...Slideshow
Philippines Rocks for Fully Abled Nation Over a thousand fans and more than 200 persons with disabilities (PWDs) came together in Eastwood City in Metro Manila for a free concert to encourage and inspire PWDs to vote in the May 2013 midterm elections in the...Slideshow
Access to Trade and Growth of Women's SMEs in APEC Developing Economies To find out what is holding back women entrepreneurs in Southeast Asia, The Asia Foundation, The Department of State, and the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation present the new study: Access to Trade and Growth of Women's...Video
Books for Asia Celebrates International Literacy Day 2012 The Asia Foundation marked International Literacy Day with story writing contests, teacher training workshops, book donations, and more in 12 countries. The events took place in capital cities as well as some of the most...Slideshow
Dynamics of Gender and Conflict in Mindanao On April 26, 2012, The Asia Foundation hosted a panel discussion on the dynamics of gender and conflict in Mindanao. Panelists discussed findings from a newly-released field study of Mindanao that documents challenges and...Video
The Lotus Circle 2012 The Lotus Circle is a community of committed individuals working together to empower girls and women across Asia through The Asia Foundation's Women's Empowerment Program. For more than half a century, The Asia Foundation has...Video
Books for Asia Event Honors Publishers and Supporters in New York On March 29, 2012, The Asia Foundation's Books for Asia honored its partners at The Power of a Book reception in New York. Publishers, donors, Asian government representatives, and executives from the philanthropy, education,...Slideshow
The Evolving Nature of Asian Regional Architecture: Views from the Philippines As part of its Asian Perspective Series, on November 8, 2011, The Asia Foundation presented "The Evolving Nature of Asian Regional Architecture: Views from ASEAN." As a gradual emergence in Asia of multilateral architecture...Video
Innovations in Strengthening Local Economic Governance in Asia On May 25, 2011, The Asia Foundation released a new book: Innovations in Strengthening Local Economic Governance in Asia. The Asia Foundation's approach to economic reform in Asia utilizes a range of distinctive strategies,...Video
Moving from Theory to Practice on Political Approaches to Development Case Studies from Afghanistan, Nepal and the Philippines provide the basis for a discussion on the elements of a political economy approach to development, including going beyond analyses of the political context to...Video
Asia's Fragile Corners Conflict and fragile governance present enormous challenges for development and security in Asia. In places where violence is widespread and government ceases to function, the pace of development falls dramatically and...Slideshow
Books for Asia Celebrates International Literacy Day Across Asia In celebration of International Literacy Day 2011, The Asia Foundation's Books for Asia program held events across Asia, including a book stamping in Afghanistan; drawing and reading competitions and student performances in...Slideshow
Empowering the Women of Asia In recent decades, Asia has experienced transformative economic growth and reform, and women have made significant advances in gender equity, political participation, and personal security. The Philippines ranks 9th among...Slideshow


text:
NEW YORK (AP) - Two years at the bargaining table led nowhere, so NBA players are ready to take their chances in a courtroom.
The players' association rejected the league's latest proposal for a new labor deal Monday and began disbanding, paving the way for a lawsuit that throws the season into jeopardy.
With All-Stars, role players, NBA champions and a new legal team crowding around them, union leaders announced the significant change in strategy, saying the collective bargaining process had "completely broken down."
"This is where it stops for us as a union," president Derek Fisher said.
ESPN is reporting that games are canceled through Dec,. 15.
And where the NBA's "nuclear winter" starts. "We're prepared to file this antitrust action against the NBA," union executive director Billy Hunter said. "That's the best situation where players can get their due process."
And that's a tragedy as far as Commissioner David Stern is concerned.
"It looks like the 2011-12 season is really in jeopardy," Stern said in an interview aired on ESPN. "It's just a big charade. To do it now, the union is ratcheting up I guess to see if they can scare the NBA owners or something. That's not happening."
Hunter said players were not prepared to agree to Stern's ultimatum to accept the current proposal or face a worse one, saying they thought it was "extremely unfair." A day before players normally would have received their first paychecks, the NBPA's website greeted visitors Monday with the message "Error 404: Basketball Not Found. Please be patient as we work on resolving this. We are sorry for the inconvenience."
And they're aware what this battle might cost them.
"We understand the consequences of potentially missing the season; we understand the consequences that players could potentially face if things don't go our way, but it's a risk worth taking," union vice president Maurice Evans said. "It's the right move to do."
But it's risky.
Hunter said all players will be represented in a class-action suit against the NBA by attorneys Jeffrey Kessler and David Boies - who were on opposite sides of the NFL labor dispute, Kessler working for the players, Boies for the league.
"Mr. Kessler got his way, and we're about to go into the nuclear winter of the NBA," Stern told ESPN. "If I were a player ... I would be wondering what it is that Billy Hunter just did."
The league already has filed a pre-emptive lawsuit seeking to prove the lockout is legal and contends that without a union that collectively bargained them, the players' guaranteed contracts could legally be voided.
During oral arguments on Nov. 2, the NBA asked U.S. District Judge Paul Gardephe to decide the legality of its lockout, but he was reluctant to wade into the league's labor mess. Gardephe has yet to issue a ruling.
Two years of bargaining couldn't produce a deal, with owners' desires for more competitive balance clashing with players' wishes to keep the salary cap system largely intact. The sides last met Thursday, when the league offered a revised proposal but told the players there would be no further negotiating on it.
Stern, who is a lawyer, had urged players to take the deal on the table, saying it's the best the NBA could offer and advised that decertification is not a winning strategy.
Would you like to contribute to this story? Join the discussion.


text:
Home | Forums | Rules | Articles | The diyAudio Store | Gallery | Blogs | Register | Donations | FAQ | Calendar | Search | Today's Posts | Mark Forums Read | Search |
Parts Where to get, and how to make the best bits. PCB's, caps, transformers, etc. |
Please consider donating to help us continue to serve you.
Ads on/off / Custom Title / More PMs / More album space / Advanced printing & mass image saving |
Thread Tools | Search this Thread |
12th December 2007, 06:56 AM | #1 |
diyAudio Member
Join Date: Jan 2004
Location: UK
Welbourne Labs
Does anyone know if Welbourne Labs are still in business??
I ordered about $400 worth of goodies 5 months ago and still nothing!!! no replies to many e-mails sent, still no contact details on their site..... Regards
12th December 2007, 07:35 AM | #2 |
diyAudio Member
Join Date: Jan 2005
Location: Hartford
There is a lot more on this at audio asylum, so you should search there, but basically Ron Welborne has taken lots of money from lots of people and moved. He is reportedly in a different state now. If you can, contact your credit card company and get a refund, otherwise you are most likely S.O.L.
12th December 2007, 09:28 AM | #3 |
diyAudio Member
Join Date: Jan 2004
Location: UK
Thanks for the info...
19th December 2007, 03:34 PM | #4 |
diyAudio Member
I'm sorry to hear this, that Ron Welborne is coming off like a thief. I've ordered from him for years and never had a problem. I will say, he isn't good about letting you know that things are out of stock, but I ordered some solder from him, it was out, 4 months later it came in the mail. Yeah that wasn't good, he should have let me know, but I mean, he didn't steal my money, he was just waiting on stock apparently. I keep reading these posts about how bad a business man he is, about how he steals peoples money and never ships goods. Honestly, I've never had that experience, and I find it too bad if its the case, as we need all the DIY allies we can get.
20th December 2007, 12:58 AM | #5 |
diyAudio Member
Join Date: Jan 2007
Location: lathrup Village, MI
I have had the same issue with out of stock parts. After many unreturned e-mails my packs Eichmann's came in ~5 months after I placed the order.
Thread Tools | Search this Thread |
Similar Threads | ||||
Thread | Thread Starter | Forum | Replies | Last Post |
Welbourne Labs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | grahamfocal | Everything Else | 69 | 21st February 2013 12:18 PM |
New To Site? | Need Help? |


text:
The Library
Di-metallated platinum carbonyl complexes: platinum-platinum interactions in the solid state
UNSPECIFIED. (2001) Di-metallated platinum carbonyl complexes: platinum-platinum interactions in the solid state. JOURNAL OF THE CHEMICAL SOCIETY-DALTON TRANSACTIONS (18). pp. 2678-2682. ISSN 1472-7773
Full text not available from this repository.Abstract
The reaction of a diphenylpyridine with one equivalent of potassium tetrachloroplatinate in ethanoic acid yields a cyclometallated species which can be induced to undergo a second cyclometallation to give a C<^>N<^>C tridentate species. Carbonyl derivatives of two such compounds have been structurally characterised. The X-ray structure of the complex [2,6-(4'-C6H13OC6H3)(2)C5H3NPt(CO)]. (1), obtained using 2,6-bis(4'-hexyloxyphenyl)pyridine, has no unusual features. In contrast. the structure of the complex [2,6-(C6H4)(2)-4-(4'-C8H17OC6H5)C5H2NPt(CO)], (2), which results when using 4-(4'-octyloxy-phenyl)-2,6-diphenylpyridine, has close intermolecular contacts. with a Pt-Pt "bond" of 3.243(1) Angstrom holding the molecules together as dimers. Compound 2 also exists in another form in the solid state. a form that does not appear to contain Pt-Pt bonds.
Item Type: | Journal Article |
Subjects: | Q Science > QD Chemistry |
Journal or Publication Title: | JOURNAL OF THE CHEMICAL SOCIETY-DALTON TRANSACTIONS |
Publisher: | ROYAL SOC CHEMISTRY |
Official Date: | 21 September 2001 |
Number: | 18 |
Number of Pages: | 5 |
Page Range: | pp. 2678-2682 |
Publication Status: | Published |
URI: | http://wrap.warwick.ac.uk/id/eprint/11725 |
Data sourced from Thomson Reuters' Web of Knowledge
Request changes or add full text files to a record
Actions (login required)
View Item |


text:
Family Calendar & Concerts
The Human Race 5k (Sun. Apr 26, 2015 8:00 am - 10:00 am)
Contact Info:
Crystal Lake, IL
The Literacy Connection's McHenry County will host the Human Race 5k on Sunday, April 26th at 8am at McHenry County College, 8800 Route 14 in Crystal Lake. The Literacy Connection provides Basic Literacy and English as a Second Language (ESL) adult tutoring and family literacy programs. To register or donate please go online. For more information, please call.
The Heart of a Woman (Sun. Apr 26, 2015 11:00 am - 1:00 pm)
Contact Info:
Litchfield, IL
Union Avenue Christian Church, 422 E. Union Ave in Litchfield, will host The Heart of a Woman with Kathie Johnson and Judy Eyman. This program on cardiovascular health will be held Sunday, April 26th at 11am. Please bring a "heart healthy" salad or appetizer to share. For more information, please contact the church office.
Bowl For Kids' Sake (Sun. Apr 26, 2015 1:00 pm - 4:00 pm)
Contact Info:
Rantoul, IL
Big Brothers Big Sisters of Central Illinois will host Bowl for Kids Sake on Sunday, April 26th beginning at 1pm at Country Tyme Lanes, 1568 East Grove Avenue in Rantoul. Participants are asked to raise $50 to bowl. This includes two games of bowling, shoes and more. For more information or to register please go online.
Big Fish Golf Scramble (Sun. Apr 26, 2015 1:30 pm - 4:00 pm)
Contact Info:
Champaign, IL
Meadowbrook Community Church youth missions will host the Big Fish Golf Scramble on Sunday, April 26th from 1:30-4pm at the Legends Golf Course in Champaign. The cost is $30 per person and $60 per team and must be received by April 22nd. All proceeds raised will go towards a summer missions trip. To register please call or go online.
The Chosen Ones in concert (Sun. Apr 26, 2015 3:00 pm - 5:00 pm)
Contact Info:
Marseilles, IL
The Chosen Ones, will be in concert on Sunday April 26th at 3pm at the First Baptist Church, 555 E. Bluff St in Marseilles. It is a free concert with a love offering to be taken. Please call for details.
Homecoming Gospel Choir in concert (Sun. Apr 26, 2015 6:00 pm - 9:00 pm)
Contact Info:
O'Fallon, IL
The Homecoming Gospel Choir will be in concert Sunday, April 26th at 6pm at the O'Fallon Assembly of God, 1400 N. Green Mount Rd in O'Fallon. This is the choir's 16th year. For more information, please call or go online.
Sonya Jones speaking (Sun. Apr 26, 2015 11:00 pm - Mon. Apr 27, 2015 1:00 am)
Contact Info:
Litchfield, IL
Sonya Jones will be speaking on Sunday, April 26th at 11am at the Living Stones Church, 1100 Old Rt 66 N in Litchfield. Sonya was a contestant and finalist on NBC's The Biggest Loser this season. For more information please call or go online.


text:
Prediction Time! Where Will One Direction Be In A Year?
Look into our crystal ball
Cody Simpson Tells Us About His Roots And Independence
Watch our interview
Amy Schumer Hilariously Pays Her Respects To Kimye
Please Stop Doing The #KylieJennerChallenge
It's actually dangerous
April 24th, 2012
Nate Dogg's hologram was given the shaft at Coachella, in favour of the headline-grabbing Hologram Tupac. But Warren G brings back his fellow 213er to sing the hook on his latest G-funk anthem, "Party We Will Throw Now!" throwing Game in for some added muscle.
Tags: Game, Nate Dogg, Party We Will Throw Now!, RapCity, Stream, Warren G
Posted on Tuesday, April 24th, 2012 at 10:52 am by Cam and is filed under Blog.


text:
Pronunciation: /ˈsälyəbəˌlīz/
Definition of solubilize in English:
Make (a substance) soluble or more soluble.
Example sentences
- The lipid films were solubilized in Tris / HCl solution.
- The amphiphatic character of the detergent molecules helps solubilize the membrane protein.
- The acidity solubilizes metals, most notably aluminum, making them bio-available.
- 1
- Example sentences
- Research on surfactants and membrane solubilization showed that anionic surfactants interact more with lipid bilayers.
- It is highly relevant to compare these results to NMR data on solubilization of small aromatic molecules in alkylglycoside micelles.
- The most-important chemical effects of the air pollution are acidification of soil and fresh water, which in turn causes a solubilization of toxic metals.
Pronunciation: /ˌsälyəbəliˈzāSHən/
nounDefinition of solubilize in:
- British & World English dictionary
What do you find interesting about this word or phrase?
Comments that don't adhere to our Community Guidelines may be moderated or removed.


text: With award season behind us, March means it's time for some exciting new movies at the theater (The Hunger Games, anyone?), the return of one of our most beloved shows, and a couple of new albums we can't wait to get our ears on. Take a look at what we're looking forward to as we head into Spring.


text:
There was justice in the manner of the Springboks' series win against the British & Irish Lions.
Remember when the Springboks scored three tries to nil in Durban in 1997 and Percy Montgomery, Henry Honiball and Andre Joubert missed six penalties and conversions, while the Lions kicked five penalties and one Jeremy Guscott drop goal to win 18-15 and take the series – a series in which the Boks lost 2-1 but outscored the Lions nine tries to three.
There was nothing heroic about the losing Boks. Carel du Plessis, as coach, would be gone soon after that and Nick Mallett would take the Springboks on a record-equalling winning run.
So much has been made of that series win and of how Ian McGeechan masterminded the victory, when in fact had South Africa had an experienced coach and kicked just 20% of their kicks it would have been another failed Lions trip to the southern hemisphere.
When South Africans tried to find solace in winning the try-scoring nine to three and in scoring three tries to nil in Durban, all we got in return was a one-liner, which was 'to look at the scoreboard'.
It was something similar when Jonny Wilkinson kicked a drop goal with 30 seconds to go to win the 2003 World Cup for England. That Australia was the better side did not matter much, the Aussies were told to look at the scoreboard.
When the Boks won the 1995 World Cup through a drop goal, the British media wrote the best team lost and that rugby was not served through the best defensive team beating the best attacking team.
And so it goes on … when the British (we'll leave the good Irish blokes out of this one) win, it doesn't matter how it is achieved. When they lose, they're heroes and the winners are an after thought.
That's why the nature of the Boks' series win delights me so much. Instead of smashing them by 20 points in each Test, which they should have done given the class difference between the two sides, they effectively taunted the visitors and their supporting cheerleaders (in the stands and in the press box) by giving them a sniff of the bone but never allowing them to get their clumsy paws on it.
When a drop goal won them the series in 1997, it was as emphatic as 50 points. When a penalty gives the Boks a series win 12 years later, it is an injustice. God, I love it to see the British so tortured, especially when they arrived in South Africa with no hope and gradually believed there would be a miracle.
One of the nicest blokes in the British media is Sunday Times correspondent Nick Cain. He is a good professional who is passionate about the Lions. In 1997 I predicted a 3-0 series win to the Boks, despite Carel du Plessis being the coach. When we lost 2-1 Nick cornered me in a pub and told me to admit that the Lions had done the Boks.
'Admit it,' said Nick. 'We did you. Come on. We did you.'
There was no defence of nine tries to three or of having a coach in charge who had never coached a school team. I admitted to him. 'You did us.'
It was then as if the gods had conspired against me when after the brilliance of the 2007 World Cup win, Peter de Villiers would take charge of the Boks against the Lions. Despite this I predicted a 3-0 series win against pretenders who were given a billing of contender. This time I never feared another of those series-ending conversations with the man affectionately called 'Moose', because one team was simply too good to lose and another was just not good enough to win.
Despite no coach, no apparent continuity in game plan and giving the Lions a one-man and 10 point advantage, I'd be able to respond with a one-liner of my own if I bumped into the Moose.
'Admit it Nick,' I could say. 'We did you.'
I'd never say it because the reality is there is no achievement in doing the best of British and Irish, even if we did it playing as individuals and not as a cohesive, well coached team.
What I would say, though, is justice could not have been sweeter because of the way it was done … by three points.
Think of all the trees that have been saved because of the 40-plus British & Irish Lions tour books that won't be published at Christmas. And thank the Springboks for a victory that was overdue and environmentally friendly.


text:
Click on the link to get discount:
EF Multi File Renamer - 11% Off
Is there a better discount on another site? Request maximum discount
You can buy the full version of "EF Multi File Renamer" for $14.24 (saving of 11% / $1.76). If you don't get the discount right away, please during the checkout process enter the coupon code ANDR-VMWX-EFSB and click on the 'Update' button to receive 11%...20% discount.
Mp3 Rename coupons:BistoneSoft Mp3 File Editor 3.5 show all Batch file rename coupons:Batch Rename Specialist 1.1.0 BatchRename FCM Simple PDF Rename show all File rename coupons:Batch File Rename & Restore 1.2 dwgPlotX - Multipurpose AutoCAD Batch Plot & Script Utility 2.2.1 File And MP3 Tag Renamer show all Rename files coupons:Best Rename FCM Easy PDF Preview and Rename Mytoolsoft FileRenamer Private Label File Renamer 2.1 Rename File 2007 Q4 show all File renamer coupons:File And MP3 Tag Renamer File Renamer Pro Ideal File Sorter 2007 Q3 Ideal Music Sorter 2007 Q3 IdealSorter - Ultimate edition 2007 Q3 show all
EF CheckSum Manager
EF Commander
EF Commander Lite
EF Duplicate Files Manager
EF Duplicate MP3 Finder
EF File Catalog
EF Find
EF Mailbox Manager
EF Process Manager
EF StartUp Manager
EF System Monitor
EF Talk Scriber
Payment methods: * Credit Cards, PayPal, Bank Transfer, Check Order, Fax Invoice
Online Coupons
Useful Utilities
Audio Coupons
Business Coupons
Desktop Enhancements
Coupons for Games
Education Coupons
Internet Software
Multimedia Coupons
Development Tools
Web Authoring
Privacy Policy
© Copyright 2006 - 2014 GimmeCoupon.com. All Rights Reserved.


text:
Get 12 issues / year of BeerAdvocate magazine for only $14.99 (US/print only). Offer ends April 30. Subscribe now! (Because great beer deserves great stories AND readers.)
A Belgian Style ale that's very pale and cloudy in appearance due to it being unfiltered and the high level of wheat, and sometimes oats, that's used in the mash. Always spiced, generally with coriander, orange peel and other oddball spices or herbs in the back ground. The crispness and slight twang comes from the wheat and the lively level of carbonation. This is one style that many brewers in the US have taken a liking to and have done a very good job of staying to style. Sometimes served with a lemon, but if you truly want to enjoy the untainted subtleties of this style you'll ask for yours without one. Often referred to as "white beers" (witbieren) due to the cloudiness / yeast in suspension.
Average alcohol by volume (abv) range: 4.0-7.0% [ ? ]
View the Top Rated Beers: Witbier


text:
I've had ICON Coilovers on my 2008 Tacoma w/285 tires for a few years now, and have become increasingly unhappy with the ride quality. From day one it was very harsh and has only gotten worse with time. I now feel every single bump and crack in the road, probably my fault for getting performance offroad coilovers in the first place.
I'm looking to replace the current front suspension with something much softer that will provide the same lifting due to my tire size. I was looking at Bilstein 5100's with Old Man Emu coils as they sound like the softest setup. Any thoughts on whether this would be a good idea, or if there are cheaper or better options available to me?


text:
Ovarian stromal vascularity is not predictive of ovarian response and pregnancy. | |
MedLine Citation:
PMID: 16454933 Owner: NLM Status: MEDLINE |
The role of ovarian stromal vascularity in the prediction of the ovarian response and pregnancy in infertile women was evaluated by comparing age of women, body mass index (BMI), basal FSH concentration, antral follicle count (AFC) and ovarian stromal vascularity indices measured by three-dimensional power Doppler ultrasound. A total of 111 women in their first IVF cycle were analysed. They were aged <40 years with basal FSH concentration <10 IU/l on recruitment for IVF treatment. AFC, mean ovarian volume and mean ovarian 3D power Doppler flow indices were determined on day 2 of the treatment cycle prior to a standard regimen of ovarian stimulation. Ovarian response was represented by the number of oocytes, serum oestradiol, the duration and dosage of gonadotrophins. AFC achieved the best predictive value in relation to the number of oocytes obtained, followed by age of women and BMI. Basal FSH concentration was the only predictive factor for the duration and dosage of gonadotrophin used. Mean ovarian 3D power Doppler flow indices were not predictive of pregnancy in a multiple logistic regression analysis. Ovarian 3D power Doppler flow indices measured after pituitary down-regulation were not predictive of the ovarian response and pregnancy in the IVF treatment. |
Ernest Hung Yu Ng; Oi Shan Tang; Carina Chi Wai Chan; Pak Chung Ho |
Related Documents
24222433 - Prenatal diagnosis of non-syndromic congenital heart defects. 2148953 - Pelvic inflammatory disease. endovaginal sonography with laparoscopic correlation. 22115163 - Endocrine disorders in pregnancy: physiological and hormonal aspects of pregnancy. |
Publication Detail:
Type: Journal Article; Research Support, Non-U.S. Gov't |
Journal Detail:
Title: Reproductive biomedicine online Volume: 12 ISSN: 1472-6483 ISO Abbreviation: Reprod. Biomed. Online Publication Date: 2006 Jan |
Date Detail:
Created Date: 2006-02-03 Completed Date: 2006-09-15 Revised Date: 2006-11-15 |
Medline Journal Info:
Nlm Unique ID: 101122473 Medline TA: Reprod Biomed Online Country: England |
Other Details:
Languages: eng Pagination: 43-9 Citation Subset: IM |
Department of Obstetrics and Gynaecology, The University of Hong Kong, Hong Kong Special Administrative Region, People's Republic of China. firstname.lastname@example.com |
Export Citation:
APA/MLA Format Download EndNote Download BibTex |
MeSH Terms | |
Adult Age Factors Body Mass Index Estradiol / blood Female Fertilization in Vitro* Follicle Stimulating Hormone / blood Humans Infertility / therapy* Logistic Models Ovarian Follicle / physiology* Ovary / blood supply*, physiology, ultrasonography Pregnancy Treatment Outcome Ultrasonography, Doppler |
Chemical | |
Reg. No./Substance:
50-28-2/Estradiol; 9002-68-0/Follicle Stimulating Hormone |
From MEDLINE®/PubMed®, a database of the U.S. National Library of Medicine
Previous Document: Unusual presentation of a woman with polycystic ovaries and complex endometrial pathology.
Next Document: Developmental competence of transported in-vitro matured macaque oocytes.


text:
Zipper #3Drink Type: ShooterIngredients
1/3 oz. Tequila (more Tequila drinks) InstructionsAs in Zipper #1, layer in a shot glass but Chris... how can you not describe one of the sexiest shooter to experience with friends...Guy sitting on a chair, unzipped, place shot glass carefully, then a thirsty female volunteer kneel before you and, hands in her back, do the B.J. thing get it!!! Have fun and enjoy
CreditHugo Sparxxx |


text:
Thanks to Disney for sponsoring this post and for giving me Disney Cuddly Bodysuits, a Mombo Nursing Pillow and Slipcover, and a copy of the Disney Baby Lullaby CD for free.
Now that our son Judah is finally home after a month in the hospital NICU, we've been getting used to life as "normal" parents: establishing a routine that doesn't involve a team or nurses or doing a surgical scrub every time we want to hold him. Now that we've survived our first full week out of the hospital, there have been a number of quality Disney Baby products that have made bonding and getting used to life with Judah so much easier!
What items have been your essential, must-have items to get through the first few weeks with baby?


text:
Welcome to the KatRiders.com forums. You are currently viewing our boards as a guest which gives you limited access to view most discussions and access our other features. By joining our free community you will have access to post topics, communicate privately with other members (PM), respond to polls, upload content and access many other special features. Registration is fast, simple and absolutely free so please, join our community today! If you have any problems with the registration process or your account login, please contact contact us. |
Bodyshop Got a tweaked piece of plastic? Some roughed up paint? Here's the place to get some tips on repairing your Suzuki Katana. |
Thread Tools | Display Modes |
Kat Champion
How to paint a vinyl seat.
I just love my Katana, I think we all do, but I hate the purple seat, I mean I really hate the purple seat. It's the first thing people notice when I stop and they walk over to talk to me about the bike. I can live with the purple splashes on the sides and even the purple wheels but the seat, no way.
The first thing I tried to do was to find a black seat for the bike but they seemed to run around $150 on eBay in any color other than purple. That was just too much money for a used seat for me anyway. I did find a purple seat in perfect condition for $15 so I bought it thinking I would re-cover it, not that my current seat is bad I just didn't want to stop riding while I worked on the new seat. Then I got talking to a friend that owns a body shop and he suggested I just paint the seat. Seemed like a strange idea that would look good for the first ride and then look like well a painted seat, but he said they do it all the time on interior car parts and it holds up well and looks good. So I said what the heck I'll give it a try. It should be cheaper than re-upholstering the old seat, which seems to run a couple of hundred dollars at best. The things you'll need to do the job are: a nylon bristle brush, soapy water (I used Dawn dish detergent), a bath towel, SEM Professional Vinyl Prep, SEM Color Coat, Bulldog Adhesion Promoter, and something to keep the seat up in the air. I used a couple of tin cans and a piece of wood. 1. SEM and Bulldog products can be found at your local body shop supply store (not an auto parts store). You want a place that caters to professional auto body shops. I got mine on line at Hands On Tools.com because it was easier than calling the local suppliers or driving around and I wasn't in a big hurry since I now have two seats. 2. Remove the seat from the bike (this is important) and clean it with a nylon brush and soapy water. I washed it three times with a heavy rinse with a garden hose between washings. 3. I used a garbage can turned upside down, a towel, and a can to support the seat. It must be in a well ventilated area so outside just made sense, apply SEM Vinyl Prep to the portions of the seat that you'll be painting, all the vinyl. Follow the directions on the can, but basically you just spray it on, rub it around and rinse it off. Don't worry, it's not rocket science. I prepped the seat three times to be sure all the wax was off and the water didn't bead up when I rinsed. Remember to rinse well and let it dry well before you proceed 4. Then I tape the bottom of the seat so you can paint all the vinyl and keep the plastic frame sort of clean. I didn't want any purple showing when I finished. 5. Prime all the vinyl with Bulldog Adhesion Promoter. Follow can directions--you want several light coats. Bulldog is extremely tacky and ready for recoat in 3-5 minutes. Ensure that all vinyl to be painted is covered with Bulldog 6. After waiting 10-15 minutes for the Bulldog to cure, you can now paint the seat. Use the same process as the Bulldog--several light coats. I used six coats to fully cover my seat, most of one can. 7. Now you're basically done! If any of you are concerned that it won't look "real", don't worry. It will look exactly like a fresh piece of vinyl. Here is a close-up of the texture showing through the paint. 8. Let the paint cure for at least 24 hours before reinstalling. I'm paranoid so I let mine cure for 36 hours just to be sure! If it doesn't have time to cure, it will rub off. If left to cure long enough, it will become one with the vinyl and will never wear through. 9. This is it! Not bad, looks like a brand new seat! It also looks like the fairings, swing arm, and exhaust need paint soon. This is what the professionals do when they repair or refurbish vinyl upholstery. I believe it all ran around $30 plus $15 for the seat. One can of Bulldog is enough to prime a half a dozen seats, The SEM Vinyl Prep will do a three or four seats easily, and I bought two cans of SEM Flexible Coating but one can was more than enough for one seat. I have a future project of turning the old seat into a solo seat with cowl, which is why I bought two cans of SEM Flexible Coating. Stay tuned!
http://katriders.com/vb/showthread.php?t=110816 1994 GSX750F Katana with: Michelin Pilot Road 2's, 120/70, 150/70, Race Tech 1.0kg springs with 25mm preload, R6 rear shock w/14.3kg Eibach spring, 1" Soupys bar risers, Zero Gravity windshield, RK GXW Gold Chain, My own fender eliminator, 3BBB turn signal mirrors, Black painted seat and rear trim, Nelson-Rigg CL-135, CL-150, CL-950. Last edited by bob393; 07-04-2010 at 07:43 AM.. |
Tank Slapper
Lookin good man. Should get a sticky imo
Looks good! But, could'nt you just have used a Duplicolor vinyl spay. It would've run you cheaper.
For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil. - Ecc 12:14 |
Kat Master
looks good ! Very interested in knowing if this lasts long enough to bother. I would have just recoated it with a new black sheet of leather. Still it looks nice. good job.
2001 gsxf 600 |
looks a 1000x betternice job you will have to update us will how it stands up over time
Do you know why Santa is so jolly.... Because he knows where all the naughty girls live.. |
Kat Champion
One of my biggest concerns on this project was the durability however one of my resources tells me that it has lasted over 35,000 miles with NO sign of ware at all. I wouldn't have taken the time to do this unless I was convinced it would last.
Apparently one of the solvents in the vinyl prep actually softens the surface of the vinyl so the flexible coating adheres to it, not just lays on top like paint but actually bonds to the vinyl. I think the Duplicolor is more of a consumer repair product and not a commercial restoration product like the SEM line. I don't think I would have used it myself even with the small cost savings it would represent. Start to finish it took me the better part of eight hours to complete and I would have hated wasting that time just to save a couple of bucks. I thought about recovering the seat with new black vinyl but I'm no upholster and wouldn't have known where to start. Thanks for the comments, keep um coming! |
Knee Dragger
looks much better!
Kat Champion
Just a note, It's been about 5000 miles now and absolutely no fading or ware spots.
The only issue I have is where I have my tail bag, because of several 90+ days, the paint or vinyl must have gotten soft and there are some imprints in the paint, I usually put a terry cloth towel under the tail bag, I don't know why, and now there are terry cloth imprints on the seat. No issue just weird looking! |
Kat Daddy
very nice post!! i believe this is sticky material!
RIP joe iwanski ... ALWAYS MISSED, NEVER FORGOTTEN!! RIP MARC...PEGS ARE ETERNALLY DOWN FOR YOU BROTHER "for those who have fought for it, freedom has a taste the protected will never know" my build threads http://katriders.com/vb/showthread.php?t=103472 http://katriders.com/vb/showthread.php?t=105768 |
Bookmarks |
Thread Tools | |
Display Modes | |
Similar Threads | ||||
Thread | Thread Starter | Forum | Replies | Last Post |
Tried some vinyl paint on my seat - mixed results | BennyBlown2v | Bodyshop | 20 | 11-16-2010 03:41 PM |
Suggestions for paint color on a seat cowl | Katpilot36 | Suzuki Katana Talk | 14 | 07-17-2008 06:55 AM |
Seat Recovered..Changing color for paint job | ctandc | Bodyshop | 11 | 02-14-2008 03:43 PM |
So you want to re-paint your seat cowl... | BobKat2002 | Bodyshop | 10 | 12-14-2005 05:55 PM |
Price to paint a seat cowling? | AANASA | Bodyshop | 11 | 05-02-2005 08:10 AM |


text:
Indian journalist P. Sainath explains the disastrous consequences of his country's extreme income inequality.
Leaked documents provide an extraordinary glimpse of US maneuvering in Haiti from before the 2004 coup through the devastating 2010 earthquake.
The US Embassy aided Levi's, Hanes contractors in their fight against an increase in Haiti's minimum wage.
Anne Elizabeth Moore argues that if the international business community can't support the workers in Cambodia's garment sector, maybe young women around the world can.
The city has backed away from its longstanding commitment to avoid procuring city workers' garments from offshore sweatshops.
The Gap has been caught selling garments made by child slaves in India. It's enough to make you vomit all over your new denim jacket.
Will a donation from Nike deflect Stanford's efforts to curb sweatshop labor in the making of its sports regalia?
How do the Chinese make such cheap TVs? By silencing, arresting and sometimes torturing labor rights activists.
The government is about to declare virtual disarmament against the lawbreakers.
New York Knicks point guard Stephon Marbury is getting props with a $14.98 sneaker designed to appeal to low-income kids. But the criticism he's endured over
sweatshop labor shows it's hard to do good.


text:
The following industries match your search criteria:
|« « | 1 | » »|
Click here to sort results by relevance. Click on heading titles to sort results by different field.
Identify your target customer base and compare wealth markets in seconds. Our dashboard will simplify your analysis of affluent individuals and the liquid wealth they hold in a graphical and interactive interface.
Compare retail investments markets in seconds. Our dashboard will simplify your analysis of bonds, deposits, equities, and mutual funds in a graphical and interactive interface.
This databook is an essential resource for those in the European payment card industry. It provides high quality competitor and market level data, making it a valuable tool in understanding the dynamics and trends of this rapidly changing market.
Edit my basket | xe.com


text:
This text is part of:
Search the Perseus Catalog for:
[20] and through him to reconcile all things to himself, having made peace through the blood of his cross. Through him, I say, whether things on the earth, or things in the heavens.
This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.
An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.


text:
byEdward J. Correia on
The 2012 Products of the Year
Get a roundup of CRN's components and peripherals coverage right to your inbox with the Custom Systems newsletter.
Belkin Secure KVM
How secure is your KVM switch? Not very, according to Belkin. Unless it's built with some safeguards, clever hackers can use a keyboard-video-mouse switch to move enough data from one machine to another to be a threat to connected systems and networks. Addressing this threat for financial services, law firms, health care, government and other security-conscious organizations, Belkin offers its Advanced Secure line of KVM switches with total isolation for connected systems. We tested Belkin's four-port Secure DVI-I KVM Switch and found security from top to bottom. Everything about the Belkin Secure DVI-I KVM Switch was air-tight, right down to the tamperevident outer packaging and device labeling.
Check out CRN's coverage of the 2015 Cisco Partner Summit in Montreal.
Here are 10 recent searches by CRN visitors.
RSA Conference


text:
OXO Good Grips Potato Masher - OXO26291
Part Number: | OXO26291 |
Manufacturer: | OXO Kitchen Gadgets |
Dimensions: 10" x 3" x 2"
Weight: 6 oz.
Our Potato Masher features a sturdy, stainless steel wire head and a cushioned handle that absorbs pressure while you mash. This tool is not just for potatoes! Try mashing yams, carrots, or other root vegetables, or make homemade baby food by mashing apples or bananas.
Features and Benefits
- Sturdy stainless steel wire head
- Cushioned handle absorbs pressure
- Great for potatoes, root vegetables, and fruit
- Dishwasher safe
- Made in China
A nylon polymer that is lightweight and extremely durable, Zytel can be shaped and textured to provide excellent grip.